


Ruffled

by Zwergenmaedchen



Category: British Actor RPF, Good Omens (TV) RPF, Staged (TV 2020)
Genre: BC I SAY SO, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone's Bisexual, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Fucking, Georgia Tennant (mentioned), Hair-pulling, Kissing, M/M, Or Is It?, RPF, Who Knows?, a bit rough but not very much i think, drunk phonecalls, it's implied that Georgia is okay with this if that's important to you but it's not really discussed, maybe it's just staged fanfic, people being disgustingly in love, polyamoury, questionable endearments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zwergenmaedchen/pseuds/Zwergenmaedchen
Summary: A drunk phone call (on Michael's side) leads to some realisation (on David's side) and a lot of fun (and a bit of pining) (on both their sides). And smut.
Relationships: Michael Sheen/David Tennant
Comments: 68
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sarah_hadeschild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_hadeschild/gifts).



> Blabla, standard rpf disclaimer that if you do not like this then why the hell would you read it?  
> Everyone else: Have FUN! The fic is complete and I'll probably post the other two chapters in the next few days. Gonna be around 4.5k completed.

David checks the clock before he even looks at his phone. Who the fuck is calling him at 3 in the morning? Patting a hand behind him confirms that it's not Georgia because she is fast asleep on the other side of the bed. The kids are all home, so they wouldn't call.

With a groan, David grabs the vibrating phone and squints at the picture on the display. Michael fucking Sheen, that's who's calling him at 3 in the morning. He swipes to answer but doesn't say anything.

"David!"

Michael's voice tells David that the man is walking a fine line between tipsy and full on sloshed and David isn't sure what he's supposed to feel about getting a drunk phone call from his co-worker in the middle of the night. 

"David David David...so good to hear you."

That makes David smile.

"I haven't said anything yet," he whispers while disentangling himself from the sheets and stepping into the hallway. He leans against the wall then, phone at his ear, bare feet crossed at the ankles.

"But I can hear you breathe."

David stifles a laugh and pads down the hallway. When he reaches the kitchen, he closes the door behind him, but doesn't turn on the light. He takes a glass out of the cabinet and fills it from the faucet.

"Sorry, was that creepy? It was, wasn't it? I'm so sorry, David - what are you doing now? Is that the shower?"

"Yes," David deadpans before taking a gulp of fresh water. He doesn't feel particularly sleepy anymore. Drunk Michael is funny and David wants to see where this is going.

"You - you are showering at - whatsthetime - bloody hell, at 3 AM? Wait. Did I call you at 3 AM?"

"Hmh yeah, you kinda did."

"Why did you pick up?"

Good question. David wishes he had an answer but he doesn't, so he says, "Don't be daft, that was the tap. I just needed something to drink."

"Oh," is all of Michael's answer.

What does that mean? Did Michael - did he _want_ it to be the shower?

"Michael," David starts cautiously, "why did you call anyway?"

"Yes!" 

It sounds vaguely like Michael jumped up from something and maybe hit his head. The smile is evident in his voice when he continues speaking nevertheless.

"I called you!"

"Yeah, you did." 

"Wanted to ask you something."

There's silence until David prompts him to go on.

Michael giggles. 

"Can I ruffle your hair?"

"Ruffle my _hair_?" David asks and it feels like deja vu. He's sure this has happened before, but not with someone that he- not with Michael. "I'm sorry, let me get this straight. You called me at 3 in the morning to ask if you could ruffle my hair?"

Michael is giggling again, affirmatively.

"Go to bed, Michael, you're drunk." David sighs, running a hand through his own hair, absolutely not imagining how it might feel if it were Michael doing that.

"Not drunk. I'm not. I just haven't been sleeping well lately, and I thought some wine would help but then I got to thinking about you and- I mean, Crowley and Aziraphale, and them drinking together and I missed you a tiny bit and your hair was so lovely in that scene and it suits you, the longer hair, doesn't it? It does."

David needs another sip of water before he answers.

"Thank you," he says quietly, his cheeks warmed by the compliment, and he's glad Michael can't see it.

"Soooo," Michael drawls.

"So," David answers.

"Can I? Ruffle your hair, that is?"

It sounds conspicuously earnest and David doesn't know what to do with that. He shrugs.

"Well?" Michael prompts and David remembers he can't see him shrugging.

"I mean. Yeah. I guess, why not?"

"Good."

It sounds like a deal has been struck and David doesn't know what exactly he's gotten himself into but he knows it's dangerous. It's also exciting. He's not gonna sleep again tonight because his mind is running miles around all kinds of probable and less probable (but maybe more desirable) outcomes, the most likely being that Michael will have forgotten this call come morning and they'll never talk about it again.

~

It's past noon when Michael texts him, asking if he wants to go for dinner. The message doesn't mention hair or the ruffling thereof. David tries to tell himself he's not disappointed. It would be weird. They're friends and it would be weird if he secretly wanted his friend to run his hands through David's hair, leaving not just the top of his head ruffled, so he doesn't want that. 

Instead, he agrees to dinner, and it's pure coincidence that after an afternoon shower he decides not to put any product in his hair. Georgia smiles at him all too knowingly and he loves her but he hates how she seems to be able to see right through him most of the time, even when he'd just like to pretend for a moment longer that things are not like that, that _he_ is not like that. 

Of course he is, though. And maybe Michael is, too. Or maybe Michael was drunk out of his mind and David was just at the top of his contact list last night.

"David. You look lovely," Michael greets him at the doors of the restaurant, pulling him into a hug that is too short for David to even reply, and then they're already being seated and it's too late, so he doesn't say anything.

Dinner is nice, as it always is. Just a casual dinner between friends, no talk of hair or getting one's fingers into said hair. It's nice. 

It's maddening. 

They skip dessert in favour of taking a walk along the river because it's so nice outside. Michael tells him about some new projects he's working on and David tells him that Georgia and the kids are on their way to visit the grandparents so effectively he'll have the house to himself for the next few days.

Michael looks at him curiously and David wants to curse himself for bringing it up. Like a fucking invitation.

"So. The hair ruffling still on the table, then?" Michael asks without looking up, his gaze on the river as if that's a completely normal question. So he hasn't forgotten. David doesn't know if he's relieved or not (except he knows, doesn't he? And it terrifies him).

"Well." He's stalling.

"Not here, obviously," Michael says with a small laugh. "What would the people think?" he continues in mock indignation. 

"Yeah."

David turns from the river to find Michael still staring at it intently, his general body demeanour relaxed, but his fingers twisting around each other and David realizes that Michael is as nervous as he is.

"We're just 5 minutes from home. I mean, if you wanted to come along for a nightcap or something."

"Or something," Michael murmurs, shooting him a quick glance. There's a smile in there and David finds himself returning it.

It's unbearable. The closer they get to home, the closer they gravitate towards each other, until their hands brush at every other step. It tingles up David's arm, ignites an urge to grab that hand, to hold and squeeze and not let go again, but he can't, they can't, because there's people and he's already terrified of even entering his own house with a good friend because yes, _what would the people think?_

He tells himself it's gonna be one great joke. He's gonna let Michael ruffle his hair and they're gonna have a good laugh and then they're gonna have a drink and Michael is gonna go home and that'll be it. Except he knows that's not true. He knows it by the silence of their walk and the way they keep sneaking glances at each other, quickly averting their eyes when the other looks back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a tiny bit overwhelmed by you guys' lovely responses 💜💜💜 Thank you!  
> Also, I have an exam tomorrow and I really wanted to procrastinate, so have the next chapter now 🤷🏻♀️

"Stop me," David says and Michael shakes his head.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," David promises. Michael reaches around the body pressed to his and pulls, closer, closer, impossibly close.

"Please. We can't," David says even while they do because apparently they _can_ , and Michael knows they shouldn't but it feels so good and he leans in to make it that much easier for David to close that last gap between them, to press their lips together helplessly and kiss him.

He lets David kiss him and lets David direct all his focus on Michael, lets himself bask in it, drink it in from David's lips that spill kisses and desperate pleas, and Michael feels drunk with it.

"Tell me to stop," David begs, all breathless and needy, clinging to Michael as much as Michael is clinging to him.

Michael thanks whatever God might be listening for making that call last night and for following David's invitation. He had not at all expected David to close the door so hurriedly, trapping Michael in the cage of his arms and making him involuntarily take a step back against the door. Michael hadn't expected the frankly filthy once over David had given him then, before stepping into that poor excuse for personal space and taking Michael's breath away by doing so.

He hadn't expected David to bow his head and look at him expectantly. 

"Just like this?" Michael had asked and David had blinked up at him, nodding, licking his lips.

It had taken all of Michael's restraint not to lean in and kiss David right then, but instead reach up with both his hands, running them through David's hair, from his forehead to the nape of his neck and back again, slowly, savouring the slide of the soft and silky strands between his fingers. He hadn't expected for David to like it so much, either. It could've been merely a minute, if even so long, until David had gripped his hand and come up to lean into him, their hands finally intertwined between their bodies.

And now he's leaning against the hard wood at his back, arms full of David, David's hands all over his face, David's tongue in his mouth, and it's not close enough. 

"Ask me," David whispers against his neck before kissing him there, sucking, making Michael writhe in pleasure, and Michael isn't sure if David's still asking for Michael to put a stop to this madness or if he wants an invitation. Either way, Michael isn't gonna give it to him.

He lets David lead, makes himself pliable for him, waits for the inevitable pull-back, for David to come to his senses, but it doesn't happen. Instead, David starts pulling _at_ Michael, pulls him along the hallway, and Michael eagerly goes along with it, lets himself be manoeuvred through narrow doors and - finally - into a room that contains a bed.

"If you really don't want this, _now_ would be a good time to say so," Michael says, even though it doesn't seem likely because David is already opening the buttons of Michael's shirt, but he needs to say it because consent is important and oh so sexy. He just wants to hear David say it, too.

"No. No I mean, yes. I want you. I do," David whispers into Michael's ear. "I wish I didn't, but I do."

Michael wishes he didn't understand but chooses to ignore that. Since they have established they're not gonna stop, there's no point in worrying now, when they could be enjoying themselves and each other so much more.

He's out of his shirt in no time at all and David makes short work of his undershirt as well. Michael thought maybe he would be more self-conscious about being naked in front of David but with the way David looks at him, all shame melts away instantly.

"Come here," he says and pulls David into another kiss.

The soft wool of David's jumper feels incredible against Michael's bare skin but he imagines how much more incredible David's skin might feel, so he slips his hands underneath the hem of the jumper. David deepens the kiss then, which Michael takes as encouragement and gently slides the jumper up David's torso, running his thumbs along the line of David's ribcage when he gets there, making David whine into the kiss.

It's truly tragic that they have to stop kissing to get the jumper off David entirely but they take the moment to catch their breaths and get rid of all remaining clothes in unspoken unison. 

David is beautiful. Michael has thought it many times and it makes him giddy to be able to tell him now (but he's not gonna tell David exactly how many times he's thought it, not least because he's lost count long ago). David blushes very beautifully, too, and Michael tells him that, too.

"Shut up," David says, but he's smiling behind the hand he's put in front of his face to hide.

"Never," Michael says, makes it a promise in his mind. Then he grabs that hand and pulls, so he can look at David again.

"Beautiful," he repeats and the blush on David's face darkens.

"Come here," David says and leads Michael to bed.

~

It's not that David is competitive. It's just that he is determined to make Michael blush as hard as Michael did him. Because Michael deserves it. Because he is fucking hot and David has wanted to tell him for ages and now that he can, he doesn't find the words.

"Can I ruffle your hair now?" he asks instead.

Michael smiles at him. 

"Sure. Anytime."

_Anytime._ The word gets stuck in David's mind and he doesn't want to let go off it.

Michael is sitting against the headboard, looking at David expectantly and David crawls over until he's straddling Michael. He buries his fingers into Michael's dense curls.

"Oh." He closes his eyes and moans when Michael leans in to kiss his neck. "Oh, that's good. Do that again!"

Michael does, harder this time, sucking the skin between his teeth lightly. It's not fair how good he is at this when David is still trying to come up with a plan to take Michael apart completely. For now, he's just hanging on while Michael continues kissing and nibbling along his neck. 

They're both mostly hard by now and their cocks brush when Michael bucks up at David pulling him back by the hair, carefully, but determined.

"Like that, do you?" David asks a little out of breath, and pulls a bit harder, satisfied at Michael's eager nod.

"Hmh, wonder what else you might like," David ponders, but Michael doesn't answer so David decides to experiment, as it were.

"How about this?" he asks and tips Michael's head back a notch, holding him in place while David trails soft kisses along his jawline, nuzzling his face into Michael's thick beard.

Michael murmurs something unintelligible but unmistakably affirming. His hands have found their way to David's hips, his thumbs tracing circles into the sensitive skin connecting them to David's thighs. David imagines what they might feel like grabbing his thighs, strong fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding him in place and - he shakes his head and busies himself kissing along Michael's collarbone. 

He lets one hand slide from Michael's hair, to brush past his ear, down his neck and lets it come to rest against his chest.

"You know what?" David asks, leaning in to whisper into Michael's ear. "Do you know how long it's been?" He stops himself, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, takes a deep breath.

"What?"

"It's been so long, Michael, since someone fucked me." 

Michael gasps and grips David harder. That's encouragement, David decides.

"Will you … do you want to fuck me, Michael?"

For a moment David worries (or hopes? He doesn't know the difference anymore.) that Michael will make him beg for it, but then there's a hand cradling his face and Michael is kissing him, taking control of the kiss, and David lets himself melt into Michael's hold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! Hope this meets expectations and thank you all again for reading and your lovely comments! It's so appreciated 💜

Michael never would've imagined David so pliant. He's all soft and responsive to Michael's every suggestion. Well. Not _all_ soft. That would be a shame. 

At the moment, he's got David laid out, legs spread, arms twisting together above his head in comfortable bliss while Michael takes his time. He savours David's content sighs and surprised gasps as much as the taste of his skin. 

Michael nibbles at the tender skin connecting crotch to thigh and finally takes David's cock loosely in hand. David arches up at that and his answering moan makes Michael look up to see David bite his lower lip and it makes Michael irrationally jealous.

"Show me," he growls as he moves up to lie beside David, one hand still languidly stroking him, and then with the other he teases that lip free to claim it for himself, holding David's chin, stroking the back of a finger down his throat, feeling him swallow as Michael leans in for a kiss.

It makes him all tingly and almost breathless the way David looks at him then. He's so open and trusting and obviously waiting for Michael's direction, so that's what Michael gives him.

"Touch yourself," Michael says and David complies, his hand over Michael's in a second, holding on, holding tight and moving fast along David's cock.

Michael watches him and he's being watched in return. David's eyes are wide and unfocused (and Michael isn't even quite sure exactly how much David can see without his glasses) but his gaze is flitting over Michael's face and down between them in irregular intervals. For his part, Michael focuses on watching David's face, cataloguing his responses, like the way he throws his head back at a flick of Michael's thumb over the head of his cock, or how he licks his own lips whenever his eyes travel to Michael's lips. It's dizzying, being so openly wanted, and by this man that he has adored for God only knows how long.

"You're so gorgeous like this," he tells David, who hides his face against his own shoulder at that, but smiles, nevertheless.

Michael tips David's face back towards him and brushes the hair from David's forehead gently before burying his fingers in his hair again and holding him in place not quite so gently. 

David looks up at Michael and it looks like he's close, mouth open and panting, brow wrinkled in concentration, as he moves both their hands in a steadily quickening rhythm, accentuated by jerky motions that make Michael almost insane with need when David's hip brushes against his own neglected cock. He keeps ignoring it in favour of watching David come undone beneath him, _because of_ him, trailing kisses over his damp forehead, his sharp nose and cheekbones, his bruised lips that don't make sense anymore, just whimpering noises of pleasure until he comes on a stuttering inhale of breath and a barely-there, gasped rendition of Michael's name.

~

The first thing David notices when he can think again is Michael all wrapped around him, and a blanket around them. Second is the smell of Michael's hair because apparently he's been snuggling with his face pressed into those thick beautiful curls for a while now and he briefly wonders if he could stay like this forever, maybe, because it's soft and fluffy and it smells heavenly. He presses a kiss into Michael's head to let him know he's fully aware again. 

The third thing he notices then, and he does feel quite guilty about not thinking of it sooner, is Michael being hard against his hip, his cock leaking while he visibly tries to refrain from rocking into David to relieve some of that pressure.

"Oh fuck me, sorry, love! I was a bit out of it there, wasn't I?"

Michael smirks.

"I was rather hoping to get to that, yes. I mean, if you're still up for it."

"Christ, yes. Absolutely up for it. Don't expect me to, you know, but I'd still love for you to, well, you know." He waves a hand between them, feeling self-conscious all over again. 

"Well, that's normal for a man your age, don't worry about it," Michael says with an exaggerated wink and a mean smile.

"Oi! You're older than me!"

"Didn't seem like that when you just fell asleep on me there, _princess_. I'm still wide awake, old man."

He's teasing and David knows it, not only because there's already a hand snaking between their bodies, grabbing his cock again. 

"Mmmh, fuck you, Michael," David says, then laughs at the sudden twinkling in Michael's eye.

"Maybe some other time?" David suggests and waits for an answer with baited breath until Michael nods with a strange look in his eyes and kisses him until he's fairly distracted.

He's still sensitive but Michael gently pets his cock and balls and it's very nice. He doesn't know where Michael gets the patience for this; from the look of it he must be positively aching, but David isn't gonna complain about being pampered like this.

"Do you have lube?" Michael asks and David nods, pointing to the bedside drawer. 

He misses Michael even in the short time it takes the other man to get to the drawer and get what they need. Watching him bend over the side of the bed is nice, though, and he almost tells Michael that, but something chokes the words from him and he just looks. Another time, he tells himself. There will be another time, he fervently hopes. And he'll get better at this.

Michael doesn't need to get better at anything, in David's very objective opinion. He's got talented fingers and they feel so good inside David, so right, that if it weren't for the filthy chatter Michael keeps up, David might be relaxed enough to fall asleep again. As it is, he is surely blushing again while Michael leisurely pumps in and out of him and tells him exactly how it feels.

"How's it feel for you?" Michael asks and looks at David expectantly. 

"Ngk. Very … good?" David tries. 

Michael raises an eyebrow in response.

"It's … it's really good. Feels good. Uh, full. But in a good way! It's so. You're so close and I … fuck, I still want you closer. Does that make sense?" David closes his eyes, mortified at his own rambling.

"Makes perfect sense, princess. You feel perfect. Tight and hot and perfect for me. I want to be closer as well."

_Come on, then_ David thinks and pulls at Michael to kiss him.

"Condom?" Michael whispers into his ear.

"Same drawer."

He watches Michael again, and doesn't avert his eyes when Michael rips open the tiny plastic bag and rolls the condom onto his cock, thick and heavy with arousal. It occurs to him that he hasn't even touched Michael yet. _Next time_ , he thinks and he repeats it like a mantra to ground himself in the moment and not get lost in thinking about possibilities. 

His mind goes blank when Michael prompts him to go up on all fours and positions himself behind David. One of Michael's hands comes up to hold David up by his chest and David can feel the other between his cheeks, rubbing lube into him, pulling at his rim, making him shiver in anticipation.

"Okay?" Michael asks, leaning over his back.

David nods.

"Okay," he confirms.

When Michael starts pressing in, David exhales a deep breath and presses back against him. It's been a while, but he's still relaxed from his earlier orgasm and Michael goes slow enough to let David adjust to the intrusion. The discomfort lasts for maybe a second until it turns into pleasure and if Michael keeps at this slow pace, David thinks that maybe he can actually get it up again. He still doesn't know how to describe the feeling, other than 'good', and so he tells Michael that. (He _could_ say he feels 'complete' because he does, but he's not sure they're at that point yet. Or if that's a point that Michael even wants to be at. _Next time_ , he tells himself again.)

Michael groans above him and David can tell he's holding back. His hands are on David's hips, his chest, playing with his nipples, making David gasp and arch into Michael's slow and measured thrusts. He trails kisses along David's neck and back and David shivers underneath him. The heat is building up slowly, but steadily, and when his cock starts twitching again, Michael is there to stroke him to full hardness, while still keeping that controlled rhythm.

"Don't -" David starts but interrupts himself with a gasp at a particular circling motion of Michael's hand.

"What?" Michael asks, immediately stilling his movements. 

"No, don't stop! I just. I wanted to say, I mean, like, you don't have to … you don't need to be nice about this."

"Oh darling!" Michael leans over David's back to ruffle his hair once more while pulling almost completely out. When he pushes back in, he tightens his grip on David's hair and tugs him back by it.

Mouthing at David's neck, he asks: "Is this how you want it? A little rough? Want me to fuck you for real?"

"God, yes!"

It is _exactly_ what David wants, what he never quite dared hope to actually have, but now he does and it is glorious. It's Michael's cock driving into him repeatedly, finding that sweet spot inside of him that's been neglected so long and David could weep from the sheer pleasure of feeling it again, and it's Michael's hand in his hair, holding him in place, holding him close and warm and strangely safe. It's Michael's other hand pulling him off in the same rhythm of his thrusts, getting him closer. It's David being distantly aware of how he's whimpering, begging Michael to go faster, harder, deeper, and being utterly incapable of feeling ashamed of it at the moment because everything just feels so damn right.

When he comes for the second time that night, he shakes so hard, Michael has to support him so he doesn't go down. It only takes another few thrusts, less and less controlled now, until Michael shudders and comes into David. 

He stays inside for a moment longer, giving them both a chance to catch their breaths and David is thankful for it. He hates this part and whines at the inevitable separation when Michael pulls out. Michael shushes him and wipes the sweat from his face before pulling him into a hug and kissing him, limbs loosely intertwined, sharing space and breath for a moment that stretches on and on until David can feel himself drifting off again.

"Stay?" he asks without looking at Michael. 

"Not today, princess," Michael answers and ruffles his hair. "Next time?"

"Next time."

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Here or on [tumblr](http://www.david-fucking-tennant.tumblr.com).  
> Thanks for reading 💜


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